  ON HER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY Sixteen! and life to thee looks bright and fair;— A book unread, rose-tinted, golden edged, Encased in binding curious, costly, rare;— And all the years to be thou holdest pledged To give thee from its pages, day by day, Readings to cheer and bless the blithesome way. And life is such a volume, only thou, From garnered storage of the heart and mind, Must fill unwritten pages, and allow Fair pictures—of pure thought, of self resigned, Of kindly deeds—each new-made page to grace;— Sixteen! A May-day in the path of life, A marvelous puzzle on the finger twirled; Sixteen again; a stir of earnest strife And toil and tumult in a restless world; Repeated still,—a patient, steadfast hold On good attained,—ripe fruit, and grain of gold. Sixteen once more! Serene in shade or sun, A brighter outlook now; existence grand! Content in hopes fulfilled, in victories won, Mingling with holier yearnings for that land, Whose o'er-flown radiance and whose surplus bliss Have been the glory and the joy of this. |
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